


Things Overheard

by GwennhaduBug



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alya is gay in this, F/F, Fluff, Marichat bros, One Shot, POV Alya Césaire, Reveal Fic, but also post-reveal depending on who you ask, but is she really straight lbr, just to their second year in Lycee tho they're not adults, rating is for language only, straight friend crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwennhaduBug/pseuds/GwennhaduBug
Summary: "No, Alya could never have scheduled falling in love with Marinette, even if she tried living by a schedule. She couldn’t schedule it because she didn’t fall in love any one day, any one moment. It wove its way into her life far more subtly than their fast friendship had; her feelings developed from friendship to more through sleepovers and conversations and jokes and over cantaloupe. .... With each and every fragment of Marinette’s soul, with each day Alya knew her, she fell more in love."Alya is in love with her straight best friend and has long accepted that's just the way things are- she's in love with Marinette, and Marinette will never reciprocate. At least, that's what Alya thought, until she overhears Marinette talking to Chat Noir on one of his midnight visits.Apparently, Marinette has some secrets she's left unsaid around Alya. And maybe her friend isn't as straight as she thought.Written from a tumblr prompt from Druidofhibernia and Megatraven.





	Things Overheard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Megatraven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megatraven/gifts), [Discet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discet/gifts).



> I received this prompt from Discet on tumblr and FELL IN LOVE, combined it with Megatraven's prompt, and proceeded to spend an entire day writing this one shot that was supposed to be a writing warm-up. Well, whoops.
> 
>  **Prompts were (skip if you don't want any spoilers):  
> **  
>  *Alya decides to swing by the Dupain-Chang's to visit Mari only to catch sight of Chat Noir on one of his midnight visits. Alya sneaks up closer to the conversation only to hear Marinette lamenting how her best friend still thinks she's straight as a board, making it really hard to confess.*  
>  **and  
> **  
>  *a love and/or identity confession maybe? o:*
> 
> This was very satisfying for me to write. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!!

Marinette’s hair was so soft against Alya’s face. Sure, it tickled a little, but Alya could deal with the minor discomfort to stay in this position. She was curled up on her family’s couch, the end of ‘Legally Blonde’ playing on the TV in English, Marinette practically sitting in her lap, although they had the entire couch available. Marinette had told Alya -frequently - how comfortable she was and insisted on cuddling close. It was comments like those and moments like these that pretty much guaranteed Alya wasn’t going to go on a diet any time soon.

 As the movie credits rolled, Marinette turned her head upwards, blue eyes staring up at Alya. “Hey, Alya? I have to tell you something…” Marinette started, hesitance in her voice.

 Alya looked down and felt the familiar sensation of a tightened throat whenever their faces were this close. “Yeah, girl? Wassup?”

 “It’s about...um...feelings.”  

 Aw, shit. One of those conversations. Alya sighed and adjusted her position, sitting up a bit more and distancing herself just a few more centimeters. Marinette always felt so deeply, so honestly...she had a lot of feelings and needed to process them a lot. It was inspiring and endearing and only occasionally painful. But Alya thought she might know where this conversation was going. So she let a smirk crawl up her cheeks and used that extra space to bop Marinette’s nose. Like her nose was a button, a small flush appeared on her cheeks. “ _Feelings_ , huh? More thoughts on this Adrien stuff?”

 “Um… kind of?” Marinette said, hesitantly. She sat up as well, very interested in her fingers all of a sudden. “I mean, I think I really, really _am_ over him now.”

 Now that Marinette was no longer leaning against her chest, Alya crossed her arms. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve been trying to get over him since we started Première this fall. Remember the incident with the handkerchief?”

 Marinette shook her head. “This isn’t like that. I’m not going to fall back for him and lose all my progress, I know it. Because…” Marinette gulped hard, looking around the room. And suddenly, Alya’s defenses dropped just a little. This was nervous Marinette, when she wasn’t sure how someone important was going to react to something important. She was timid, she was submissive, she was _worried_ about what Alya would think. And Alya knew, like she always did, that no matter what Marinette revealed, it would just be one more revelation of a piece of Marinette she loved. “Because I know I like someone else more than him now.”

Alya’s eyes went wide. “ _More_ than Adrien?”

Marinette’s eyes met Alya’s for one flash, then she nodded and swallowed thickly. “Way more.” 

“So, not a Luka thing…”

“No, this is different. It feels different.”

So then, who was he? Alya leaned back in the couch, biting her lip as she considered all the boys Marinette knew. “Is it Nino?” Alya asked, “Is that why you’re so weird about this? Because you know I wouldn’t mind, girl. I mean, it’s not like I still like him,” Alya laughed, nudging Marinette playfully. “He’s not exactly my type anymore. And he was damn supportive when I came out, so like, you’ve got my blessing.”

“It’s not Nino,” Marinette sighed. She pulled her knees up to her chest, forming a wall between the two friend

“But it’s someone we know, right? I mean, if you like him more than Adrien, he has to be.”

Marinette groaned and scratched at her collar. “Yeah...but…”

“Wait. Wait a minute! I know who it is!” Alya leaned forwards, tickling Marinette’s sides. “I know who you like!” Marinette squealed and giggled, swatting away Alya’s hands. “I know who you like!” she repeated in a sing-song voice.

“Alya, Alya stop!” Marinette cried out. Obediently, Alya pulled away, still laughing. When the laughter of the girls settled into quiet giggles under the music of the movie credits, Marinette said in just over a whisper, “Do you really know?”

“Of course I do,” Alya said sweetly, watching intently as Marinette’s blue eyes widened. “You can’t hide things from me and my journalistic intuition, Marinette. You like Chat Noir!”

 _“Chat Noir_?”

“Don’t deny it, girl! I caught you two last week. Hell, I have half a mind to think you’re dating.”

“And I told you, what you saw wasn’t what you thought it was,” Marinette denied, crossing her arms. Her wide blue eyes looked faraway now, a pout on her lips.

“So you weren’t alone on your balcony together at midnight?”

“We were, but-”

“And you weren’t talking and messing around as if you meet with him _all the time_?”

“Well, we do, but-”

“And I didn’t catch him stroking your hair and trying to flirt with you?”

“He did, but-”

Alya smiled wide, shaking her head. “And isn’t Chat Noir almost exactly your type? Tall? Handsome? Good hair? Brave, charming, chiseled jaw, charismatic, rougeish?”

“Rougeish? Rougeish isn’t my type,” Marinette denied.

“I’m pretty sure rougeish is every straight girl’s type,” Alya countered.

“And how would you know that?!”

“I know things!” Alya laughed. She flashed a hand at the television. “I watch movies, I read books, I have friends. I spend most of my life with you: I think I know your type!”

Marinette’s laugh died on her lips. “I’m not sure you do,” she said quietly, looking away from Alya.

Alya reached out and touched Marinette’s shoulder. She had talked with Chat enough to know that he was a good guy, that he had friends he cared about, and that he and Marinette would get along just fine. So she said, “Hey, if anyone on the streets is going to catch Chat Noir’s eye, it would be you.”

“Alya, I told you. That isn’t it. We’re just friends,” Marinette denied.

“And you can’t fall for a friend?”

Big blue eyes met Alya’s hazel ones, staring intently. “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course you can fall for a friend.” A shiver ran down Alya’s spine and she had to tear her eyes away first. If anyone here knew what it meant to be in love with a friend, it was her. “Look…” Marinette sighed. “Let’s talk about this later.”

“You mean when you’re ready to admit that there’s more going on between you and Cat Boy?”

“Sure, whatever.” Marinette stood up and Alya could see frustration tensing her muscles. But Marinette stretched, sighed, and looked ready to try and get her mind off of things. “It’s still early. Come on- let’s write our review of the movie for Mrs. Smith before we forget all the English stuff. ”

“God, you’re so boring and responsible,” Alya pouted. Marinette offered her a hand and Alya took it, following her friend to grab their laptops and write. Then maybe, they could get back to that position on the couch and Alya could pretend the something Marinette had for someone...was for her.

\---  


For once in her life, and after almost two full years in lycée, Alya had actually finished her homework early on Friday evening. All of it. The readings for French literature, the essay for philosophy, her _other_ essay for English, her worksheet for Alya’s coding elective, and her study guide for World History. Typically, she was a “put it off until Sunday night” kind of girl...maybe a “I can finish it Monday morning before first hour” kind of girl, too. And why not? Alya was smart, she finished things fast when she actually tried, and most importantly, she had better things to do on a weekend.

Weekends were her sacred time where she had no schedule. The four loves of her life had no real schedule, preferring to toss and turn with the wind. A girl needed to be flexible to handle all of that and to juggle her loves.

The first love was journalism. As any good journalist knows, news doesn’t happen only 9-5, Monday through Friday. Hell, it usually was the complete opposite. Disasters struck in afternoons and evenings, joy exploded on Saturday and Sunday, and Paris was alive 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. With every beat that pumped Alya’s heart, there was a potential story happening somewhere, and she lived for the thrill of feeling that heartbeat increase when she got closer to the action. Frankly, lycée was already restricting her too much of her time, sticking her in a sweaty class learning about the past of the people of Paris when she wanted to be out recording their new history. And who to write their current chapter of history, a chapter soaked in magic and heroism, better than a girl right in the thick of it?

That was her second love...Ladybug. Alya’s fascination with superheroes made it easy for her to fall hard and fast into an obsession with Ladybug and right along with puberty, fall hard and fast into her crush on that same heroine. She lived for the moments that red blur swung past, saving the day. She counted her breaths in between those moments where Alya and her camera were right alongside Ladybug, capturing that look of determination on her face, always with a smile because Ladybug loved her job, too. She and Chat Noir worked together like a ballet and made the impossible possible, bringing real magic to the glittering city of lore. And when Ladybug’s face faltered, when things seemed too bleak for her and Chat Noir alone, all she needed to do was give Alya That Look from the sidelines. The reporter would slip away, grab hold of the necklace Alya had been given full-time at the end of collège, and Rena Rouge would come bounding back to the action.

Yes, to Alya, Rena Rouge was another of her loves. And Alya was damn fine with counting herself as one of the loves of her life. She had always loved superheroes from afar, but actually taking that mantle herself and defeating the forces of evil with more than just words? She loved being Rena for more than just the feeling of wind on her face and the fluttering of a tail behind her impossible leaps. She loved the looks of respect, she loved the way her body moved faster, she loved the way she could make her imagination appear in reality with just a few notes on a flute. She loved working with Ladybug and Chat Noir, And Rena Rouge was an even less common fixture in Paris than her partners; never planned, but always loved.

But take away all of those somewhat abstract loves and Alya still had the most concrete, and yet the most unplanned and unscheduled, of all the loves of her life. She opened her phone to look at the time, eyes lingering on her phone’s background where the love of her life smiled back, arms full of fluffy kittens. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her best friend. No, Alya could never have scheduled falling in love with Marinette, even if she tried living by a schedule. She couldn’t schedule it because she didn’t fall in love any one day, any one moment. It wove its way into her life far more subtly than their fast friendship had; her feelings developed from friendship to more through sleepovers and conversations and jokes and over cantaloupe. As her best friend, Alya saw more of Marinette than anyone else. She saw her tongue stick out when she worked hard, she saw her eyebrows bunch together when she fought to defend someone else. She heard her quick judgements and long grudges and how her voice hardened when she got angry. She felt her tiny, soft hands, her impossibly soft hair, and the way her chest rose and fell when she sighed. She understood how kind she was, how brave, how thoughtful, and how much effort Marinette put into being the best possible version of herself. With each and every fragment of Marinette’s soul, with each day Alya knew her, she fell more in love.

The pair spent years crafting elaborate and less elaborate schemes to help Marinette end up in the arms of one Adrien Agreste, a fish which Alya had always been positive Marinette could catch, because Alya was certain that anyone who met Marinette would have to feel the same way she felt. It didn’t even hurt, pushing Marinette towards their very male friend.

The Crush On Adrien had always been part of Marinette as long as Alya knew her. And so it had always been part of their friendship and always been part of Alya’s growing love for her. How could she not love the way Marinette cared about Adrien and fussed over him? How could she not love a heart that deep and full?

Marinette was straight: Marinette loved Adrien. Alya wasn’t straight: Alya loved Marinette. And Alya was determined to love Marinette by making her the happiest she could possibly be. Even if that meant pushing her towards happiness with Adrien, or the boy at the fabric store, or Chat Noir, or any other boy that caught her eye. Alya’s own happiness came from Marinette’s joy, and that joy wasn’t about to come from a romantic relationship with a girl.

And so, Marinette was by far her most unscheduled love of her life. Not only because of the feelings, but because the girl herself was a mess. Marinette might have her own schedule (and Adrien’s) memorized, but she had too much going on in her mind to ever live by it. She was constantly late, constantly rushing somewhere, constantly abandoning plans even in the middle of them to go dash off somewhere else. She slept like a rock, she forgot obligations, she would make plans weeks in advance only to suddenly remember some tiny roadblock. The only convenience in her frenetic way of life was that often, when Marinette disappeared leaving Alya suddenly without plans, Ladybug picked up the slack and gave her something to record.

So Alya could never plan around Marinette. Oh, she had tried! Just last week, she had waited on Marinette to study for their English test and instead, Marinette had disappeared, Alya spent the night tweaking her blog, and then they both failed the English test. She’d been grounded for three days and Alya’s mother set a new rule- homework first, before any other activities. That was what brought her to her current state; sitting alone in her room on a Friday evening, no homework left at all. In a way, Alya had Marinette to thank for this brand new homework-free weekend.

And so maybe she would thank her! According to her phone, it was still only 8 pm. She could have dinner and visit Marinette...maybe have a sleepover. Alya grinned as she dumped her schoolbooks into her bag for the weekend. The sudden noise startled Trixx awake, who fell out of her tiny scotch-tape hammock and onto Alya’s laptop keyboard. “Hey, did you actually finish?” the tiny kwami asked, pulling her face up off the X, D, and C keys.

“Yes, girl! Which means I don’t have to think about my homework all weekend. I can just chill with Marinette...maybe save the world if you’re up to it,” Alya said with a wink.

“I’m so proud you finished your homework, Alya!” Trixx squeaked, floating up and spinning in a circle, tail following like a streamer behind. “Your mom’s strategy worked!”

“Let’s not tell her that, though. I’m just looking forward to more time with Mari.” She was already imagining curling into Marinette’s bed, the way her best friend tucked her head under Alya’s chin and tangled their legs together when they slept. Alya moved on to packing her overnight bag as Trixx tuttered in the background.

“Alya...you’re not setting yourself up for heartbreak, right? I just mean…”

“I know, I _know_. She’s straight. You always get so weird around Marinette, but I’m a big girl! I can handle myself.”

“I can smell that she has a lot of secrets,” Trixx cautioned sadly. “I know you love her and I can see why, I just...I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Alya pushed pajamas into the very bottom of the bag, filling the top with toiletries. “Marinette would never hurt me.”

“Not intentionally. But I’ve been around long enough to see a lot of girls like you get crushes on girls who can’t love them back, and it always hurts. I’m drawn to those of us who like to seek out the truth or who thrive around illusions and secrets, you know? That means I’ve been with a lot of people who love differently than others and I’ve seen a lot of these types of secret crushes. Actually...” Trixx flew back into Alya’s eyesight, narrowing her eyes. “Are you _sure_ one of Marinette’s secrets isn’t-”

Sighing, Alya paused and looked squarely at her kwami. “Please don’t try to put those thoughts in my head again, Trixx. Marinette is straight. The way she acts around Adrien...Luka...any of those boys like that…” Alya shook her head and returned to stuffing chargers in her bag. “I’m not going to get hurt because I’m not expecting anything from her except for friendship, and how good it feels when we’re together. If I start thinking she’s even an option…” She stood up, pulling the bag with her. Alya grinned at Trixx, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m hella strong, Trixx. But I’m not _that_ strong. Now hop in the bag and let’s get dinner.”

“Think you’ll have ice cream for dinner?”

Alya laughed. She scratched Trixx behind the ears then pet her down to her poofy tail. “I most certainly do _not_ think we’re having ice cream for dinner. But Mari can get us some at her house.”

As soon as Trixx flew into the bag, Alya swung open her door to the sizzlings smells coming from the kitchen. Her dad was heating leftovers from The Hotel Paris on the stove. “Hey, Papa! Can I get a plate of that?”

Otis turned around and smirked at Alya. “No, I’m only making dinner for my daughters who _don’t_ wear glasses tonight.”

Dramatically, Alya sighed even as she opened the cupboard to get plates. _“Fine,_ I’ll just stop by child services on the way to Marinette’s tonight and report you. Is Nora coming for dinner tonight?”

“She’s staying at the University to study tonight. And Maman’s got another late shift, so it’s just us two and the twins.” Alya nodded and pulled down four plates while her father flipped the food and continued to talk. “You’re going to the Dupain-Chengs’ tonight? Aren’t you grounded, child?”

“I’m not grounded anymore, Papa. And I already finished my homework!”

Otis raised an eyebrow sternly. “Will Maman agree when I tell her you said you’re not grounded anymore?”

“Yes, Papa,” Alya groaned.

“She better, because if I let you go and you supposed to be home, we’re _both_ in trouble.” Otis shuddered, imagining how his wife could yell. He yelled at the top of his voice for Ella and Etta, who came barreling into the kitchen. Otis served everyone a plate and led the family in saying grace before they started to eat. “Alya, does Marinette know you’re staying over?”

“Not unless she’s suddenly psychic,” Alya said. She paused to consider it. _God, I hope she’s not suddenly psychic_. Alya had too many secrets for that. She shook her head and explained, “Marinette’s parents grounded her from her phone. But I usually sleepover on weekends, so like...not a big deal.” She ate faster than normal, eager to get out the door. Politely, the rest of the family chattered. Otis entertained them all with a story about the bonobos at the zoo, which sent the twins into a fit of giggles. They abandoned their plates to run around like monkeys, so while her father complained that he didn’t want to be a zookeeper in his own home, Alya slipped out the door.

Marinette’s house was across the arrondissement from Alya’s apartment; about 15 minutes by bus. But as Rena, she could cut that time in half. She jogged down the apartment building stairs, past the mail boxes, and into the alley. “Hey Trixx,” Trixx flew out of Alya’s overnight bag expectantly. “Transform me!” In a flash of light, Trixx disappeared into Alya’s necklace and the miraculous fox costume spread all along Alya’s skin until only Rena Rouge remained. She flexed her fists, cracked her neck, and muttered into the dark, “Let’s go.”

Rena bounded into the air and onto nearby roofs, running through the Paris night. The fresh air cooled her thoughts and cleared her head, the whooshing noise drowning out the chatter and music down below. When she was just around the corner from the T&S boulangerie-patisserie, Rena dropped to the ground and detransformed. Trixx flew back into her bag and she jogged the rest of the way to the side entrance.

Alya rapped on the door quickly and Sabine answered after just a few moments. Her eyes lit up and she ushered Alya inside. “Alya, sweetheart! Hello! Come in, come in. Marinette didn’t tell us you were coming over tonight!”

Alya looked down at Sabine and smiled back. “Hello, Madame. Marinette didn’t know. I can’t call her, so I’m being spontaneous. Hey, do you know when you’re giving her phone back, by the way?”

“Next Tuesday, unless her English essay due Monday gets a similar grade,” Sabine answered. “I certainly hope you’re doing better in Mrs. Smith’s class than my distractible daughter.”

Alya smiled. “I don’t know about better than Marinette...she’s really good at English. But I did already finish my essay!”

Sabine gasped playfully. “And on a Friday? Why, Alya! What happened to my daughter’s best friend?” She lightly tapped Alya on the arm. “Well, for that good of an influence, let’s make sure I send you up with some really nice treats. Tom made pistachio éclairs that you and Marinette are just going to love!”

“Could I get a little bowl of ice cream too? Just a few spoonfuls.”

“Of course, dear. You can always rely on me to spoil you. Let’s go in the kitchen.”

Alya followed Sabine, catching her up on how her own parents were doing, then took the plate of éclairs and Trixx’s ice cream up the stairs. Sabine had urged her to go straight up to the bedroom, insisting that Marinette was already there. So Alya pushed the trap door up lightly, but didn’t see anyone right away.

She frowned, a little confused. But when Alya could feel a light breeze and hear not-so-distant voices, her eyes snapped up to the skylight over Marinette’s bed. And indeed, the photos of classmates tacked up next to the bed fluttered with the wind coming from the open skylight.

Silently, Alya placed her bag on the floor and the plate of goodies on the desk. She creeped closer to the bed and listened.

“-It isn’t the same, though.” That was Marinette’s voice. High, lovely as an angel’s, and a little vulnerable.

“Well, sure it is, bug! But you just had to see it in a different light, right? And then everything flowed so much smoother. We figured it out. You just have to _groom_ your thinking.” And that...was that _Chat Noir’s_ voice? Honestly, it kind of sounded like Adrien’s, but considering what Alya had ran into just a few weeks ago on this same rooftop… she silently crawled onto the bed, avoiding all the places she knew would creak, and peeked out the skylight.

She could just barely see the edge of Marinette. Her pajama pants, feet crossed at her ankles and tiny red slippers dangling on her toes. She had a blanket around her shoulders and her hair was a little disheveled. Seated on the banister across from Marinette she could see what was definitely Chat Noir. Even if Alya couldn’t see all of him, the leather, the flicking tail, and the steel-toed boots were unmistakable. Alya dipped lower again, then sat cross-legged just underneath the ceiling, next to the window, where she could hear but not be seen. Ooh, this was gold. She could catch her in the moment, and then Marinette could stop denying the nature of this secret midnight relationship!

Marinette spoke again “No, it’s entirely different, chaton. I can talk to her just fine... I mean, we’re best friends! Talking isn’t the problem, it’s actually saying things.”

“Why is that so hard? Don’t you talk about everything?” That was Chat Noir.

“Not this. She sees me in a totally different way and I can’t change that. That isn’t who I am to her.” And that was Marinette again. Alright, so they weren’t in the middle of discussing how much they secretly liked one another. That was fair. To be expected, honestly. But who was she talking about?

“See, that’s what I meant earlier, though. It’s like with the Ladybug stuff. You compartmentalize your life, Marinette. And maybe that isn’t for the best...maybe you need to just tell her.”

Marinette scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from you, minou. You’re the king of compartmentalizing!”

“Hey, I never said I was a purr-fect example of what to do,” Chat laughed. “Do as I say, not as I do.” They were quiet for a moment. “Don’t you want her to know?”

This conversation was becoming curious on its own. Alya thought there wasn’t anything about Marinette that she didn’t know, but she couldn’t pin this down... who was this girl they were talking about? And what did Marintte need to say? Alya suddenly wished she was recording so she could piece together this puzzle later. Marinette’s answer to Chat came out in an impassioned rush. “Of _course_ I want her to know. I want to scream it from the rooftops!”

“You have done that,” Chat Noir laughed. “The day you finally realized how you felt about her, remember? I think you scared the pigeons.”

“I guess you’re right,” Marinette giggled. “But Chat, I just...can’t tell her. I’ve tried. Honest to god, I’ve tried to say it multiple times. But she won’t even begin to listen or take me seriously because she still thinks I’m straight! And-”

She still thinks... _what?!_ Alya froze on the bed, her eyes wide and her jaw fallen open. What had Marinette said? ‘She still thinks I’m straight’? As in, she’s _not_ straight and anyone who thought so was wrong? It wasn’t until she felt the tiny hands of Trixx closing her slack-jaw mouth that she realized she had blacked out and completely missed part of the conversation. She looked frantically at her kwami, who devoured secrets like they were ice cream. Trixx was grinning, but held both hands to Alya’s mouth to keep her holder quiet.

Chat Noir was speaking when Alya finally could process any noise over the pounding of blood in her ears. “To be fair, you’ve always been vocal about liking boys, and that’s not her experience, right? I mean, she just figured that all out recently, too! And I wouldn’t personally know, but I feel like her _not_ being attracted to men is a pretty big part of figuring herself out.”

“That’s why it took me so long, yeah. Since I do like boys, I didn’t really consider liking girls was...a major thing for me,” Marinette agreed, sounding sad. And Alya wanted to rush up the roof, hug her, promise her that she would always love her no matter what orientation she was, and be the friend Marinette deserved. Was that what this whole conversation was about? Was Marinette just scared to come out?

But Alya felt about 300 kilos and couldn’t move from the bed. Marinette continued to talk, completely unaware of the desperate meltdown happening directly under her feet. “But Chat, how am I supposed to tell her how I feel when she thinks I’m straight? She keeps pushing me towards boys, pointing out ones she thinks I’d like...Chat, she wants _us_ to date.”

“What, again? But didn’t you tell her-”

“No, I mean you and me. _Chat Noir_ and me.”

Chat laughed. And Alya was now pretty damn sure that Marinette was talking about her. How had she let this happen? How had Alya, _Alya_ , the gayest person in their class outside of the girls actually dating each other, become someone Marinette felt she couldn’t come out to? What a crappy friend she was. Chat spoke up, freeing Alya from wallowing in guilt. “Well, My Lady, we _do_ make a purrrr-itty pair.”

“Chat. Really? Now?”

“Sorry, old habits die hard.”

“See, this isn’t what’s fair. You practically confess your love on autopilot! I can’t even get the person I like to see me as more than her _straight friend_ ,” Marinette spat bitterly. “I guess I see what you mean about old habits die hard. I did this with you, too.”

 _The person I like_. So then, they...weren’t talking about Alya? They couldn’t be. Who was it she liked? Did Marinette like a girl in their class? Oh, god, Alya felt ready to collapse. Or explode. Or both. She was too gay for this. Alya didn’t even register Marinette alluding to a past crush on Chat; she was far too busy replaying everything she’d just heard. Why the hell hadn’t she started recording when she thought of it?!

“Okay, so the first step is getting her to see you as not straight, right? Have you tried dropping hints?”

“Yes.”

“Marinette. Have you _really_?”

“Define hints then, Chat Noir, since you’re the master of hints apparently!” Marinette spat.

“Well, what have you said? Or done?” Alya leaned closer, hoping to hear any facts that might clue her in to the identity of Marinette’s crush.

“I’ve talked about how cute Rose and Juleka are and that I wanted a relationship like that one day…” That was true, Alya remembered. Marinette was always a weirdly vocal supporter of Rose and Juleka.

“Doesn’t count. Everyone wants a relationship like that. Did you say ‘I want a girlfriend like that’?”

“No! I don’t want her to think I like Rose or Juleka! Besides, I’m bi; it would be rude to all potential boyfriends.”

“Look, Marinette. On behalf of the non-female population, I henceforth allow you to say that you want a girlfriend if it helps you get a darn girlfriend.”

Marinette laughed. “Thanks. I, uh...I’m still figuring this out. I offered to go to Paris Pride with her next summer!”

“That sounds like something a supportive straight friend would say. What else you got?”

“Uh, I try not to use any pronouns when I talk about the future?”

“That’s nice for you, but it’s not going to clue anyone else in. Especially if she’s convinced you’re straight. Please, tell me you’ve done something actually convincing, Marinette!”

“I, um, I’ve told her how nice her boobs are!”

“Not good enough. A gay, asexual man would like her boobs. I know, because Max said so.” Alya looked down at her own chest. She had nice boobs. Right? Marinette would like them, right?!

“I don’t know, Chat. Liking boobs is pretty bi... Fine! Fine! Stop looking at me like that! Okay, um...I told her that she looks like Zendaya! You know, if Zendaya wore glasses and had amazing ombre hair and…”

Alya didn’t hear much of what else Marinette was saying. Marinette had told _her_ that she looked like Zendaya. She remembered, because she was damn proud of that. She only tuned back in when Chat’s practically yelled his response.

“In what universe does telling your friend that they look like someone else count as a clue, Marinette?!”

“Zendaya’s so _hot_!” Marinette whined back. “It should be obvious! Everyone likes Zendaya!”

Chat chuckled. “See, that attitude is why you didn’t realize you were bi. And it’s why she isn’t realizing it, either! Okay, so you’ve left her no clues whatsoever. I think you just need to go up to her and tell her.”

“Tell her that I like her?”

“Start with that you’re _not_ straight,” Chat said softly. “Alya’s amazing. She’s going to take it amazingly. Just tell her very bluntly, and then feel things out before you tell her you like her.”

Alya’s heart stopped at her name and the puzzle pieces started to fly together. “Maybe we should practice,” Marinette said nervously. Marinette. Her crush. The love of Alya’s life. Who was definitely bi. Who was _not_ secretly dating Chat Noir, but instead talking to him about her...crush...on... _Alya_ ? On _her?!_

Frozen on the bed, cross legged and brain buzzing as much as her now-asleep legs, Alya could no longer hear what was going on above her. The entire past four years of her life were flying past her eyes. Moments she should have noticed. Things she should have said. Her vision blurred and her heartbeat sounded in her ears and in her throat and in her fingertips. A tiny red blur appeared at the rim of the skylight, a high-pitch squeal sounded, and _holy fuck Marinette likes me Marinette likes Me Marinette likes ME!_

“Tikki, what’s wrong? Stop tugging me, I can walk.” Some part of Alya’s brain registered that footsteps above were coming towards them.

Trixx had heard as well and was now frantically flitting around Alya’s head, trying to push her frozen body off the bed. “Alya, move! Move! Alya, move! We gotta go! We gotta get out of here! We gotta- oh geez, here they come,” Trixx whined, before disappearing into Alya’s shirt again. Alya’s eyes were completely unfocused, but when Marinette’s head dipped into the room, they focused on her and both girls screamed.

Marinette fell into her room, crashing head-first onto her bed and tumbling backwards, feet crashing against a wall as she screamed. Unfortunately for them both, Alya’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and she grabbed the nearest pillow, whacking Marinette with it in the face, still screaming.

And then, loud footsteps overhead turned into another head poking its way through the skylight. “Marinette, what’s going oooOOLYA!” Chat Noir’s electric green eyes were huge and horrified. “Alya, stop attacking her!”

Alya’s eyes moved from Marinette to Chat and she screamed again, years of confusion coming out as aggression as she started smacking his face with the pillow, too. This gave Marinette a chance to recover and grab at Alya’s arms. “Alya, stop!” Marinette shrieked, grabbing her wrists and calming them down.

As if this wasn’t enough, a fourth voice echoed from below them all. “Girls?” Tom asked, voice bouncing around, “Is everything alright up there?”

“We’re alright, Papa!” Marinette yelled back, then looked at Alya, Chat’s head hanging like a piñata in between them, fear and question in Marinette’s eyes that did not match her forced calm voice.

Chat whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay? Alya, are you going to attack her?”

“No, I just...you freaked me out!” Alya replied in a loud, harsh whisper.

“You were the one on my bed!” Marinette responded in a similar whisper. “And you…” her eyes bulged and face paled. “Oh, my god. How much did you hear?”

Alya didn’t know how to respond. For once in her life, she was speechless. From the look in Marinette’s eyes, Alya knew this was all real. “You’re...bi…” Alya started.

Chat grinned his cheshire-cat grin, turning his head to Marinette. “Hey! That’s one way to tell her! Way to go, Marinette!”

“Chat Noir, oh my god, get out!” Marinette yelped, pushing his head up and out the window. “Get out get out!” She followed him out the window and it took Alya a moment to realize that Marinette had just left the room.

“Marinette, hey! Wait!” Alya climbed up, grunting with effort, and saw Marinette pushing Chat Noir towards the balcony like she was going to push him off. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to die!” Marinette shrieked. “You weren’t supposed to hear like this, I’m going to die, I’m going to explode into the sun, I’m going to die!”

“Well, then don’t throw the superhero away, dear god!” Alya ran out to grab her wrist and Marinette looked like the skin contact burned her. Immediately, Alya pulled away. Maybe she’d misunderstood. Maybe she misunderstood it all.

Chat looked at them both in amusement. “Don’t we have enough superheroes here?”

“ _Chat!_ ” Marinette squealed, eyes blazing. She started pushing him faster.

And Alya’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Alya knew that _she_ was a superhero. But Chat wasn’t supposed to know that; Ladybug told her to keep it a secret. “Chat Noir, what the hell are you talking about?”

Chat looked back at Marinette, eyes wide. “Wait, Marinette, you haven’t told her _that_ , either? Really?? Didn’t you pick her?”

“Chat Noir, I swear we’re going to learn all the ways to skin a cat if you don’t get off of my damn roof!” Marinette squealed again.

“Tell me what? Marinette, tell me what?”

And then Marinette collapsed onto the floor and started to cry. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she sobbed. Both her friends dropped to the ground with her, frantically trying to find a way to make her feel better. “Alya, this wasn’t supposed to happen like this!”

Alya scooted closer, making a shushing noise in Marinette’s ear and brushing her hair with one hand, stroking her leg with another. “Chat Noir, go get the fluffy pink blanket and the éclairs on the desk. Get her a cup of water- there’s a cup in her bathroom by the sink. Marinette likes room temperature water when she’s upset.” Chat stared between the two of them uselessly.

“But she already has a bla-”

“Go, Chat!” And with a quick salute, he disappeared off the roof. “Marinette, you’re okay. A lot of things are happening right now, but it’s okay.”

“Alya, I’m s-s-s-s-so sorry,” Marinette sobbed out, rolling closer into her arms. “I didn’t want...I wanted to tell you, s-s-so bad. So bad! Every d-d-day.”

“It was obviously hard,” Alya said softly, “but I know now. Um. That you’re bi, right? That’s what you wanted to tell me?”

Marinette sniffled. She wouldn’t be crying long- these emotional bursts didn’t usually last. “Is that all you heard?”

Alya froze, debating how to answer. “No,” she finally said. “Um, but I’m not sure...if I heard right.”

Marinette wouldn’t look at Alya no matter how much her friend stroked her hair. “I bet you did. I bet you heard th-that I...like you,” she finally said.

And Alya’s heart flipped all over again. She couldn’t help it; she placed a soft kiss on Marinette’s head. She’d done that motion hundreds of times, but she had never shaken before, and it had never felt like it was such a risk. “Do you really? Really-really? Because Marinette…” Marinette had stopped crying, but she wasn’t looking at her. Just clinging to Alya like this might be the last time she had that chance. “Marinette, girl. Look at me, please.” Alya tipped her face up with one finger until they made eye contact. That eye contact was electrifying and nearly shocked Alya into silence again. But when she caught her breath, she said, “I like you, Marinette. A whole fucking lot.”

“You _do_?!” Marinette asked in a reverent voice.

Now Alya’s voice was breaking, her body shaking, and she held Marinette as close as possible as they sat on the cold roof. “I really, really, really do. I’ve liked you for a long time, but I never...you were straight!”

“I really wasn’t,” Marinette replied in a wet laugh.

“Yeah, well, I know that now,” Alya said. And then, ever so lightly but with so much intention, as if she’d imagined doing it a million times, Marinette’s eyes focused just above Alya’s and she lifted her head to kiss her birthmark. Chills ran through Alya’s body. Was this happening? For real? Marinette’s mouth stayed there, on Alya’s forehead, and she giggled. She kissed her nose and then dropped back to a sitting position.

After a knock, Chat Noir’s leather ears poked out of the open skylight, followed by a question, “Can I come up?”

Alya answered for them both, calling, “Only if you got the éclairs, boy!”

So Chat Noir popped up, his arms laden with things. He brought the blanket and water to Marinette, who gratefully drank and swapped her purple blanket for the new one. Marinette sighed in content, snuggling into the new blanket, before opening it to invite Alya to cuddle. Chat stood above them on the floor, tail flicking behind him happily. “So, what did I miss?”

Marinette looked up proudly, saying quietly, “I told her.”

“You told her that you’re La-”

“Chat,” Marinette’s voice was low and dangerous and sent an entirely different kind of chill down Alya’s entire body. “Not. Now.”

“Should I, uh, let you talk then?”

Both girls nodded.

“Alright. See you both later!” He leaned down and patted both of their heads. “Aw, so cute,” Cat purred. “Marinette, promise to cat-ch me up later, okay? Goodnight!” He ran to the edge, baton out and spinning, and disappeared into the night.

Alya waited for a few moments until they could no longer see his form, black-on-black sky. She suddenly worried that this wasn’t real, and now that Chat Noir was gone, Marinette’s feelings were, too. Fear paralyzed her tongue and she only released when she felt Marinette’s soft hand on her knee. “How long?” Marinette asked.

“How long have I,” Alya cleared her throat and felt her face get hot. “Liked you?”

“Yeah.”

“I honestly don’t know. I feel like I always have. It was kind of like...when I realized I was gay, I realized I was in love with you at the same time. But I’ve always been gay, Mari. So maybe I’ve always loved you, too.”

“Love?”

“Aw, shit,” Alya groaned. “Sorry, girl, I uh...I don’t wanna scare you. I’m sorry! If you even just think Zendaya and I are cute, then-”

“You’re much cuter than Zendaya,” Marinette promised, grabbing Alya’s face like it was the most important thing she’d said all night. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world, Alya Césaire. And the most passionate, and the most brave, and the most encouraging, and you make me a better person in every single way.”

Alya whined, unable to hold back how much she loved those words and the new meaning behind them. “Marinette, is this real?”

Giggling, Marinette nodded. “I think it is, Alya.”

“Then imma kiss you,” Alya warned. Their faces were already so close, it only took the smallest bit of inclination before her lips were hovering next to Marinette’s. And Marinette inched forward to close the gap, turning her head and immediately moaning at the soft lips over soft lips, held together, moving so slow to find a comfortable resting spot. Alya’s stomach entirely emptied and filled with butterflies, twittering and flapping and filling her entire body with a buzz. As soon as Alya pulled away, Marinette lurched forwards again, this time holding Alya by the elbows and kissing her fiercely with all of her stress from confessing behind it.

Alya didn’t mind reciprocating one bit. She even risked moving her hands a little along Marinette’s back, laughing against her mouth when Marinette squeaked, and kissed her a third time, a fourth time, and then kissed the dimples she loved so much. Then her cheek, and then with her face near Marinette’s ear and little black earrings, Alya said, “I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could come out to me, Mari.”

Marinette pulled away just enough to see Alya. She caught her hands and they tangled their fingers together, a gorgeous pattern of darker and lighter skin. “It’s okay. I haven’t come out to anyone except my parents and Adrien,” Marinette told her.

“And Chat Noir, obviously,” Alya added with a chuckle.

“Um...right.” Marinette’s smile dropped slightly. “We should, ah, make sure we have an equal balance of power from here on out. Alya, let’s go into my room.” Marinette stood up abruptly and Alya suddenly felt very, very cold without her body warmth. “We have a lot of talking to do.”

“I agree, girl, but can we kiss down there, too?” Marinette’s giggle was so encompassing, her entire body curled and hand covered her blushing face. Alya grinned.

“Yes, we sure can.” She put a hand out and let Alya down to the bed, closing the sky light above them. Then they sat side by side, knees touching, ankles knocking together, unable to breathe if their bodies weren’t connected some way.

“Do your parents know? Like, are they gonna come tell me I can’t be in here kissing their daughter?”

“Let’s talk about this, first,” Marinette said, and her finger touched Alya’s chest, right above her breasts and blow her collar bone.

“My heart? Cause that’s not there, it’s, uh-”

“No,” Marinette corrected. Gently, she pulled on the gold chain of the necklace that always hung underneath Alya’s plaid shirt. Alya’s heart pounded- surely Marinette could hear it- as the tiny gold chain rose up and her fox tail Miraculous sat gently in Marinette’s hand. “ _This_ .” Alya was silent, her eyes going from the necklace to Marinette’s eyes. Marinette’s other hand moved to her own hair, tucking stray strands behind and ear and cupping her earlobe. “And _these_. Alya, I’m the one who gave you that necklace. I’m-”

“ _Ladybug_ ,” Alya exhaled. She knew about her miraculous. She had those earrings. She was incredible. It all made sense.

“I’m sorry that I never told you. And I’m glad you never told me about yourself, either. You’re-”

“Marinette, wait. Girl, stop. Let a woman process for a second! I just…” she laughed, shaking her head, “I just found out that my best friend and biggest crush in the whole damn world is bi, _likes_ me, and is also the hottest, most amazing superhero and my _other_ biggest crush...and knew all along that I was Rena Rouge. That she was the one who trusted me to be Rena Rouge at all! I mean...holy fuck Marinette! This is a lot to take in!”

“Yeah,” Marinette dropped the necklace, suddenly worried. “It is a lot. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Alya grabbed Marinette’s face and pulled it close, silencing her with a kiss. “It is a lot. But it’s a lot of really good shit, girl. Like...is that cool with you? I kept a secret from you, too; aren’t you a little pissed?”

“I asked you to keep that secret, Alya,” Marinette giggled. “I’m not mad at all...it’s part of why I fell so hard for you! I mean, have you seen your Rena costume?”

“So you just like me for my smoking body then? That’s a terrible way to start a relationship, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“Alya, I’ve listened to you gush about Ladybug’s body for years and haven’t said a single thing. Let me objectify you for a second, too.”

Alya pulled herself backwards, one hand dramatically pushing up her bushy hair while the other popped on her hips, pushing out her breasts and pouting her lips in the most outlandish position she could. “You can objectify me for much more than a second, if yo-”

“Did you say relationship?”

And that knocked Alya back down to a regular human position. “What?”

“You said, ‘That’s a terrible way to start a relationship, Marinette Dupain-Cheng’. Do you want to date me?”

“Uh...yes…?” Marinette didn’t respond, so Alya quickly backtracked. “But I mean, I’ve liked you for _so much longer_ than you’ve liked me, and I’m okay if you just want to talk about it first and think about it and-”

“I want to date you too, Alya, but...I don’t want to have any more secrets between us. That includes some secrets about...other people. And my past. And why I got over Adrien the way I did.”

“So what you’re saying is I should make some popcorn?”

Marinette giggled. “Yes. And I think your kwami should go eat her ice cream before it’s entirely melted.”

“How did you-”

“I gave Trixx to you, remember?” Marinette said with a smile. “And I asked Tikki what food we should start stocking around here for her...she and Tikki go way back.”

As if hearing her name gave her permission to come out from hiding, Trixx flew forwards. “Frankly, hearing all the truth come out has been almost as satisfying as a good bowl of ice cream. But I will absolutely take you up on that offer, Marinette!” Before she flew down and over to the desk (Tikki had also emerged and was inspecting the non-chocolate éclairs with a bit of judgement), Trixx nuzzled into Alya’s hair and whispered in her ear, “She smells much better already. I think this will be good, Alya.”

Alya smiled and used her cheek to cuddle her fox kwami. “I think so too, Trixx. Now, let the big girls talk.” Trixx flew away to her bowl of melting ice cream, so Alya looked back at Marinette. She stroked her thumb and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Just because it was allowed now, so she was going to, damn it! Alya had years of ignored kisses to catch up on. “Don’t worry about your secrets, Marinette. Everything I’ve ever learned about you just makes me like you even more. So far, today has been exactly the same.”

“When did you get to be romantic?” Marinette asked, squeezing their hands together.

“The same day I fell in love with you, I guess.”

\---

 

Monday morning, Rena Rouge raced the sunrise towards Marinette’s house. She landed among the familiar potted plants, her paw-padded gloves touching the sweet smelling leaves gently. Alya wondered briefly if Tikki’s powers helped Marinette garden...she hadn’t known her for more than a few days as Just Marinette, but from the stories Sabine told, it would have been a miracle if she had things grow this well back then.

She didn’t spend long wondering, instead turning to the window. She could hear Marinette’s alarm blaring, see Tikki fluttering nervously around Marinette’s head, but her girlfriend (her _girlfriend!_ ) laid in the bed with one leg over the blanket and arms flailed to the side, drool pooling on the pillow. Rena smirked and shook her head. Yeah, Marinette had drooled on her before. And frankly, she wouldn’t mind if she drooled on Alya’s cheek for the rest of their lives.

Rena popped open the window, earning a look of relief from Tikki. “She’s _not_ getting up, Alya. Maybe you can help?”

“My pleasure,” Rena replied, swinging from the open window to drop down ever so lightly, hands and feet touching down on Marinette’s sides. No movement. Mischievously, Rena smirked before pouncing directly up and down, bouncing the bed and planting her hands firmly on Marinette’s hips.

That woke her up with an “OOF” and wide eyes. “Alya?” Marinette slurred, “Alya whatteryoudoin?”

“Waking you up, Sleeping Beauty,” Rena said, leaning down to nuzzle Marinette’s sleepy face. She peppered tiny kisses all over her face until Marinette’s protests about morning breath dissolved into giggles. There. That sounded more awake. Rena sat up and traced a line down Marinette’s arm until her girlfriend sat up herself and shut off the alarm, still blaring, ignored, behind them. “I refuse to let my girlfriend get grounded, so it’s my duty to make sure you gonna get to school on time, pretty lady.”

Marinette grinned and leaned forward, touching her forehead against the masked forehead of Rena. “I like waking up with you. Can we do it more often?”

Rolling her face forward enough to capture Marinette’s lips in a soft kiss was Alya’s answer. She kissed a few more times, deepening it with a hesitant open-mouth before pulling back and making a face. “Okay, you really do have morning breath, girl.”

“I warned you!” Marinette said, poking Alya’s shoulder. She threw her legs over the bed. “Okay, I’ll get ready fast, I promise. What do you want for breakfast on the walk over?”

“You,” Rena growled, grabbing Marinette around the waist and nibbling her ear. Marinette squealed and squirmed pleasantly against Rena’s body, reminding her all too much of earlier that weekend and how their bodies felt without an impenetrable supersuit between them. (And with two supersuits between them, too. They had a few fantasies to try out, alright? And a few many more remained on Alya’s bucket lists…) “But I’ll take an almond croissant in a pinch.” Rena winked. And looked her girlfriend up and down as Marinette stretched, looking lithe and limber and like the girl she was _allowed_ to touch and hug and kiss...“Okay, I’m going to wait in the bakery before I pull you back onto your bed and ruin all my hard work getting you awake.”

“Good idea,” Marinette and Tikki said in unison. With one last kiss, Rena bounced up to the roof, shimmied down the wall, detransformed, and strolled into the main entrance of the boulangerie.

“Alya, chèrie!” Sabine cheered out. “Tom, handle the register for a moment. Let me go hug our Alya!”

“Good morning, Madame Cheng,” Alya said, her smile across her entire face. Admittedly, she’d been terrified about Marinette’s parents’ reactions to their change in relationship. But Sabine and Tom had been nothing but elated when Marinette told them the news...eventually...Saturday night after Alya went home. Alya hugged Sabine and she was ushered past customers and behind the counter.

“Have you had breakfast yet? Do you want something from the boulangerie? We’ve just opened a pot of strawberry jam in the kitchen for some baguette, and Marinette has her chocolate milk if you’d rather have that!”

“Mari said she’d grab me an almond croissant, Madame. Thank you so much!”

Sabine leaned up, fussing with Alya’s hair, righting a few ringlets to hang nicer. “Oh, it isn’t a problem at all for our daughter’s dear. I’m just glad to see she might actually get to school on time with you around even more! She’s been so happy all weekend. You’re such good friends already and-”

“Sabine, don’t smother the girl,” Tom chuckled as he served another customer. “Did you want anything besides your croissant, Alya? And make sure you stop by after school so we can send some fresh bread home for your parents!”

“Actually, I did want to buy a box of macarons.”

“Oh sweetie, ‘buy’? No, no! You’re family. It’s on the house,” Sabine gushed as she filled a box with multi-colored cookies.

“Madame, Monsieur, if you let me do that I’ll put you out of business!”

“You’d have to do a lot more than take a box of cookies to out-eat my husband and Marinette,” Sabine said with a wink as she pushed the box into Alya’s hands, who put it in her backpack immediately. “I swear, cookies just disappear with those two around!”

Marinette appeared in the doorway and Alya didn’t bother holding in her gasp. What for? Everyone knew how smitten she was for the young lady in a pink A-line skirt and black jacket, the lightest makeup shining off her pale skin. And Alya wanted everyone to know how smitten she was, too. So she hurried over to Marinette, engulfing her in a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go, girl,” Alya purred.

The walk to school was slower than normal; Alya didn’t have to avert her eyes from staring at Marinette, she didn’t have to let go of her hand when it felt like she’d held it too long to be platonic, and they may have stopped a few times to share a shy peck. But still, Marinette and Alya made it on time to their homeroom class; the one time of day they had with their friends from different lycée tracks, like Adrien. And Alya needed to see him, so even kissing her new girlfriend could wait in order to be there on time.

After all, she had plenty of time to kiss her later.

So when Alya and Marinette entered the classroom hand-in-hand, Alya caught Adrien’s gaze and her own eyes lit up. “Adrien! Hey!” No one in class even blinked at Marinette holding her best friend’s hand, but Chloé and Rose certainly noticed when Alya leaned over, pecked Marinette’s cheek with real physical contact, then went off towards their friend’s desk. She smiled the entire walk over to Adrien as the two biggest class gossips began their buzzing work and was grinning in pride by the time she planted a hand on Adrien’s desk and leaned. “Hey, mec.”

“Hi, Alya!” Adrien smiled back at her, polite as ever. And Alya could practically feel Trixx sniffing out the big, Chat Noir shaped secret that he was hiding.

“So, I’m sure you heard our conversation went well on Friday,” she said, conversationally.

“Your, uh, conversation? What conversation? With whom?”

Alya rolled her eyes as Adrien pulled the fakest confused face she’d seen. “Cut the crap, kitty cat. I’m all caught up.” Alya waved a hand in the air, explaining, “My girl explained all the _miraculous_ aspects of our friends.” And what a delight to watch his reaction to that. Adrien’s eyes slowly widened, then his face split into a smile, and then an all too familiar Cheshire grin.

“Well, about time for that. Sounds like the cat’s out of the bag? And you caught the love bug?”

Alya laughed. She put her other hand on his desk and leaned in, eye to eye with Adrien. “For fox sake, are you going to pun in school, too? Two canine play that game.”

Adrien threw his head back and laughed. He looked past Alya’s shoulder to Marinette, standing just far away enough to give them privacy. “Hey, Marinette. You have great taste!”

Marinette grinned back and nodded, and that made Alya’s heart flip. She really liked her. After all this, _Marinette really liked her_. Which reminded her why she came to Adrien’s desk in the first place. “I, uh, got you something,” Alya said, fishing in her backpack for the box of macarons. She placed it gingerly on his desk, then pushed it towards Adrien’s reach. “A thank you present. If you weren’t such a fuckin’ loud mouth, who knows if Mari and I would have happened this weekend.”

Adrien looked at the box and then at Alya, clearly touched. “Really?”

Embarrassed, Alya looked away.  She noticed Marinette walking over, but tried to ignore her. Instead, Alya put a hand on her hip, hoping she looked cooler and more in control than the girl felt. “Yeah, dude. Imma be real, I wasn’t gonna spill any time soon, and Marinette is...well, you know how she is. I know I was just overhearing y’all, but...it’s because of you we got real and got together.”

“So I guess you could call me a cat-alyst?”

“Man, do you want me to take all of your cookies back?” Alya asked, opening the box and snatching one to prove her point.

“Hey!” Adrien whined, reaching for the little green macaron. “No fair, give it back, Alya!”

“Nu-uh. For every inappropriately timed pun, you lose one. So don’t burrow yourself into a hole.”

“Hey, That was a pun-“

“That was appropriately timed!” Alya finished. She flaunted the cookie in her hand before dropping it carefully in her backpack: Trixx would catch it before it broke.

Nino finally entered the room and sauntered over next to Adrien, eyes trained on the macarons. “Macarons, cool!” He said.

Alya slapped his hand away. “Is that anyway to greet your friends? And those are Adrien’s; watch your manners, boy.”

“How come Adrien gets macarons?”

“Because he got here first,” Alya teased, knocking the rim of Nino’s hat forward and over his eyes. He laughed and Alya continued, “And because I know from personal experience that anyone who puts up with Marinette’s crush talk deserves a little something.”

Marinette let out a fake scoff, poking Alya in the ribs. “Alya!” She chastised, making Alya giggle and grab Marinette’s hand for herself.

Nino looked between the three of them, realization spreading on his face. “Wait, Marinette’s crush...so she...and you...Alya, are you…?’

Alya pulled Marinette closer, right into her side where she fit and rightfully belonged. Grinning, Alya nodded. Nino laughed in delight and put a hand up for a high-five. “Hey, alright, bro! Way to go!”

Brimming with pride, Alya kissed Marinette’s cheek again just as the homeroom teacher urged everyone to sit.

Alya faced forward, but didn’t bother hiding her grin as Marinette loudly scraped her chair to be as close to Alya’s as possible. Their thighs touched and Marinette’s blue eyes were sparkling in joy. So before she lost her chance, Alya dug into her bag. Trixx was there, brandishing the macaron with a proud smile. As of yesterday, Trixx has declared that Marinette smelled secret-free and was now nothing but overjoyed for them both. Alya winked at her kwami and took the cookie.

Marinette watched Alya carefully. When Alya snapped the macaron in half, she let out a tiny gasp, remembering when they first shared a macaron like that.

Alya held out one half of the macaron, her heart pounding as if this tiny gesture meant the world. In that moment, it did. “For my girlfriend, Marinette.”

Marinette gingerly took the half, eyes sparkling and lips pulled together, her eyebrows pulled tight emotion and affection. “From my girlfriend, Alya,” she responded. Alya could feel her heart beating, pounding the way it did when any of the loves of her life wiggled their way into her schedule.

As Alya and Marinette popped the cookie into their mouths, she swore the look on Marinette’s face was brand new. It seemed like from here on out, Alya would be seeing sides of Marinette and fragments of her soul that Alya never seen before, reserved just for Alya. And she didn’t have to wonder-  Alya knew every fragment revealed would be another piece of Marinette that she loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick French culture note (if you've read my multi-chapter fic on this account, you know you're lucky I let Alya talk in English slang at all)- After the first year of Lycée (French high school), students split into different tracks based on interests. There's a humanities track (in which I've place Alya), a science/math track (in which I've placed Adrien), and a general/economics track.


End file.
